


so i stayed in the darkness with you

by alcyonenight



Category: Higurashi no Naku Koro ni | Higurashi When They Cry, Kagerou Project, Little Busters!, Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magika | Puella Magi Madoka Magica, 少女☆歌劇 レヴュー・スタァライト | Shoujo Kageki Revue Starlight (Anime)
Genre: Crossover, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Pairings TBD, Time Loop, like very referenced
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2020-07-20 00:24:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19983016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alcyonenight/pseuds/alcyonenight
Summary: July in Shishibone City, and again, and again, and again:In Hinamizawa Ward, there are strange deaths and whispers of sickness. Mitakihara Ward and Seisho Ward are plagued by disappearances and suicides of adolescent girls. There's a rumor that they never find your body if you die on a certain day in Mekaku Ward. The Kagi Ward, newly developed, is comparatively ordinary.All of July is rainy, but a particularly big storm is predicted for July 31...





	1. Chapter 1

It's raining so hard that the droplets of water are like solid matter pounding into everything they hit. A pair of teenage girls in school uniforms are huddled under a friendly yellow umbrella, but the wind pushes the rain into them. By the time they reach their destination, the two of them are drenched.

Their destination is the dormitory of an all-girl's high school, and as soon as they're through the entryway, they're greeted by one of their dorm-mates. "Mahiru! Karen! You're going to catch a cold!" says the girl inside the building. "Let me get some towels." She dashes away from the entryway.

"Thank you, Banana-chan," says one of the soaking wet girls, one with a hair clip in the shape of a crown affixed to her hair. Fruitlessly, she tries to wring out her skirt.

"I told you it was a bad day for extra practice," says the other girl, folding her umbrella.

"Maya and Claudine are still rehearsing," the first girl counters.

"And they'll probably be trapped there overnight, Karen," says the girl who must be Mahiru. "The storm is only getting worse."

"Yeah," Karen says, looking back over her shoulder through the dormitory doors. "I didn't think it would get this bad."

The girl who went to get the towels skids back into view. "Dry off enough that you're not dripping and then take a hot shower," she says.

"Thanks, Banana-chan," Karen says.

"Thank you, Nana," Mahiru echoes. 

Nana smiles at them. "I'm making banana bread," she says. "It should be ready to eat in an hour or so."

Karen cheers and takes the towels. She passes one to Mahiru and starts rubbing her hair, and Mahiru does the same.

Nana watches over them for a moment, smile so bright it's almost glowing. Then she turns away and walks toward the kitchen, humming.

One.

* * *

A pair of middle-school-age girls watch the rain, kneeling backwards on chairs inside a medical clinic. The clinic's furniture was all clearly purchased sometime in 1970, given the colors and the wear. No one is manning the front counter, but there's sound coming from behind the door to the back of the clinic.

"I guess we're eating leftovers tonight," says the blonde girl.

"Yeah, we can't stop to buy groceries when it's raining like this," her dark-haired companion says.

"We're out of soy sauce, too." The girl sighs as if it's a huge imposition.

Finally, a man pushes the door open. "Are you ready for your examination, Satoko?" 

The blonde girl pushes off the back of the chair to stand, then turns around. "I'm ready," she announces. 

"Rika, will you watch the counter for me until we're done?" the man asks. "We're not taking any more patients today."

"Because you close at 6:55," Rika says. She, too, hops to her feet. "Okay, Dr. Irie, I will."

"I'll drive the two of you home afterwards," Dr. Irie promises. "Come along, Satoko."

Satoko follows the doctor behind the door. It closes with a firm thud.

Rika's entire demeanor shifts as she climbs onto the stool. Her shoulders slump. She settles in place, closes her eyes, and sighs. For a moment, she remains in that position, breathing in and out. Finally, she opens her eyes and looks out at the rain.

"Nothing's gone wrong yet," she murmurs. "Everyone's okay." 

Rika glances at the door to the back of the clinic, then looks at something on the wall.

"Yeah. Maybe this time."

Two.

* * *

A teenage boy has fallen asleep on his desk, with the rain as his lullaby. His arms are crossed, and his head rests on them like a pillow. But for a second, his eyes flutter open, dart around to check his surroundings, then close again. He's just pretending to sleep.

A girl timidly steps into the classroom. Her breath catches, and her eyes go wide, and she trembles. "Kyousuke?" she calls, softly.

Kyousuke feigns waking: shifts a fraction, yawns, opens his eyes slowly. "Hey, Komari."

Komari relaxes a little, shifting her weight from foot to foot. "You weren't answering your phone," she says. "We were worried you were caught in the storm."

Kyousuke stands, slowly, and looks out the classroom window. "That's a terrible storm," he says. He reaches into his pocket and looks at his phone, scrolling through a few messages.

"They say this is only the first bad storm this month," Komari says. "That there will be an even worse one in a week or so."

"Is that so," Kyousuke says, and it's not a question.

"Are you feeling all right?" Komari asks. "You seem really tired."

"Just had a late night job-hunting," Kyousuke replies. "I'll get to bed early tonight." He stretches a little. "Would you do me a favor and tell everyone you found me? I have something I need to wrap up."

"Sure," Komari replies. She takes out her own phone and starts tapping.

Kyousuke carefully writes something on a blank page in his notebook, then tears out the page and folds it neatly. 

Komari watches from a short distance. "Is that a confession?" she asks, almost but not quite teasing.

"No," Kyousuke says. "But I do have to deliver it. I'll meet everyone for dinner."

Komari hesitates. "What-" she asks.

But it's too soft, and it's too late. Kyousuke closes his bag decisively over her word, and before she recovers, he's walking out of the room.

With no one there to look at his expression, he seems discouraged, or maybe disappointed.

Three.

* * *

"We did it!" a girl in pink says, as her surroundings dissolve into rain and her frilly outfit dissolves into a school uniform.

" _You_ did it," a girl in yellow replies.

"Y-yeah, Madoka," says a girl in purple holding a golf club. "You were really cool." She shivers a little as the water starts to soak into her costume. "It's raining..."

"It is," says the girl in yellow. "Let's go to my apartment. I made macarons." She sets off down the road at a brisk pace, followed soon after by her companions.

"Macarons!" says the girl in pink--Madoka. "Mami, you're the best."

The girl in purple nods. She moves a hand over the opposite wrist and her golf club disappears. "You really are the best."

"We all have things we're good at," Mami says, looking a little smug.

"But- but Homura is great too!" Madoka says, glancing over at her friend. "She gets good grades in everything."

Homura blushes. "It's just because-" She stops. "It's just because I had so much time to study in the hospital."

"Don't put yourself down," Mami says. "You should be proud of yourself for putting so much work into academics when you were hospitalized. Most people wouldn't."

"Uhh. Thank you," Homura says.

"We're here," Mami says--their destination wasn't far away. "We'll all dry off. You two can borrow my pajamas and I'll put your clothes in the dryer."

"I should call Mom," Madoka says. "She's probably worried about me." 

"Yes, you should do that," Mami says. "Once you come inside."

"Thank you for inviting us," Madoka and Homura chorus, and they all step over the threshold.

Homura looks back, into the rain, before she pulls the door shut. 

Four.

* * *

Shuuya bursts in through the door carrying a takeout bag, drenched. "I'm home," he calls.

Tsubomi meets him as he takes his shoes off. "Don't track water all over the floor," she says.

"I went out and got dinner in this weather and all I get is 'don't track water on the floor,'" Shuuya grumbles. He passes her the bag while he wrestles out of his raincoat. 

"Thank you," Tsubomi says. "I'll set the table."

Shuuya peels his socks off. "I'm gonna change."

"Tell Seto and Marry that dinner's here," Tsubomi says.

"Yeah, yeah," Shuuya replies. He walks down the hallway, legs dripping a little, and knocks on the door to Kousuke's room. "Hey. You two can eat."

"You don't have to assume that Marry's in here," Kousuke complains.

"Well, isn't she?" Shuuya counters.

"Yeah, but-" Kousuke sputters.

"Dinner," Shuuya says, and heads to his own room.

Marry is the first one out the door. She brushes off her skirt and smiles back at Kousuke. "Aren't you hungry?"

Kousuke's expression swaps from sulky to pleased as soon as he locks eyes with her. "Yeah. Let's eat."

Marry twirls a little, obviously pleased. "What's for dinner, anyway?" she asks.

"Kano didn't say," Tsubomi replies, carefully aligning a plate along the edge of the table. 

"Hamburgers," Shuuya says, emerging from his room again in a new pair of shorts. 

"Western food," Marry remarks.

"Your birthday's coming up," Kousuke notes. "What do you want to eat then?"

Marry considers. "Salmon," she says. "Angel food cake."

"Not together, I hope," Shuuya says. 

They all laugh.

It's good to see them smiling.

...

Five.


	2. Chapter 2

Once, there was a foolish, naive girl who thought she could outwit a being that had existed for millennia. She failed, of course, but she did manage to block one route of action. One way that being could win.

The price for what little she achieved was death. She fell from the roof of the school into the boiling mass of everything wrong with Shishibone City, and there is no doubt that she died. They found her body on the pavement. They held a funeral. There was a grave, with flowers and scraps of red yarn, and the tape-dotted remnants of a perfect-score math test clumsily folded into a paper crane.

The body wasn't really hers, and there was nothing of her in her grave, but none of that makes her any more alive.

And her death had consequences she hadn't imagined when she made her plan. Her family tore itself in two. Her best friend--her first love--sank into depression without putting up a fight. The friends she'd tried to protect still died.

She'd never meant for any of that to happen. You know because that stupid, _stupid_ girl is you. 

You're Tateyama Ayano. The second anniversary of your death will be in one week. 

This is the fifth time you've watched everyone else live through the month before the second anniversary of your death, because something already broken has gone horribly wrong.

You thought you had made your peace with it. Sure, sometimes you still stare at the framed pictures of you and your mother that your little sister hides in her room and want to _be there_ more fiercely than you ever want anything else, but you know it's impossible. Even if you could leave--and could you, with this body that hasn't aged a day, doesn't need food or water or sleep?--even if you _could_ leave, it would be too dangerous.

But clearly you haven't made your peace, or you wouldn't be trying to figure out if there's a way you could get out. And clearly you're even more stupid than you thought, because that one victory you pried out of this whole situation would go up in smoke if you don't stay right where you are.

Most of the people down in the city don't seem to know anything is wrong. They don't know. And knowing when others don't... doesn't that give you an obligation?

And can you really just watch July 31st again, even knowing that it might well not stick?

But wouldn't it just be worse if you were there?

You stare up into what might as well be the sky: red light shading into orange on one side and gray on the other. An eternal sunset, because it was sunset when you died, on the school roof because that's where you fell. Your hands grip the fence.

Your body remembers how it felt to sit on that fence, to tip over until gravity did the work for you. Sometimes you balance on the railing just to feel that sick swirl in your stomach. It's not like you can die any more than you're already dead.

But not today. Today, you grip the fence. Stand up on your toes, then rock down onto your heels, over and over. Wait for the effort to strain and know it won't.

* * *

You probably lied right to the face of everyone important to you in the last three days before you died, and that includes yourself. You fantasized about seeing Mom, about Mom telling you how proud she is of everything you did and how you were an amazing big sister. You imagined a kind death, an afterlife with fluffy clouds and all the sweets you could stand, peaceful forests and calm streams and a beach with waves tall enough to be exciting but never powerful enough you'd think you were in real danger. You told yourself that you'd be able to find ways to send messages out, that there would be others here to be new friends...

Well, to be fair to your past self, you don't think that you could possibly have anticipated _this._

Mostly, you're alone here. When the pressure to talk to someone, _anyone,_ builds too great, then you can usually wander your way out of the piles of books and CRT televisions, empty schoolrooms, and wide rooftops lined in fence. It's difficult, though--the familiar terrain seems to follow you, even swallow you up if you stay still too long. But eventually, you can work your way through to another part of the Daze. Azami, who made this place her home, is distant but respects you enough to let you talk at her for a little while. On a truly lucky day, you can find Haruka, who always tries to convince you nothing was your fault and laughs at even your worst attempts at jokes. On an unlucky day, you run into Takane's motionless body.

That's not the worst of it, though. The worst are what you've come to think of as storms.

It happens slowly enough that you can prepare for it, at least. Usually the first change is a shift in temperature: if the heat starts to dissipate, that's a sure sign, but sometimes the heat shoots up instead. Hot or cold, the next thing is that your scenery shifts without you doing anything. A hospital made of candy wrappers, a garden of paper roses, a sky that looks like it was drawn in crayon: strange things like that mean that danger is here.

Sometimes ordinary people wander into the storms, marked with emblems on their bodies if you knew where to look. They're absent or delirious at best, belligerent in their desire to harm themselves at worst, and you don't really know what to do for them. You do what you can, grabbing them by the wrists and yanking until you can get them under cover with you.

At the heart of each of these storms, there is a monster. The monster seems to be what the other people are trying to get to. You try very hard to avoid it, wait crouched as small as you can until the storm recedes and you find yourself alone on bare school roof.

But even that isn't the most strange part of all of this. The strange part is that girls in costume, girls that could have come straight from Pretty Cure, sometimes arrive to fight the monsters. They use magical attacks and everything.

Well, most of them use magical attacks. Your favorite is a girl with a tiny shield on her arm who fights with a golf club--by all appearances a completely ordinary one. She wears glasses, which sometimes fall off her face at inopportune moments. You can't help but root for her. You think she becomes a magical girl at the beginning of the month, or something, because you don't remember seeing her before July started to repeat itself.

She seems to be getting better all the time, which didn't register as another strange thing until the fourth July. Now it leaves you wondering.

* * *

It's the Fourteenth of the fifth July, 10 AM Japan Standard Time, and you're watching Shintaro sleep.

He never wakes up before noon anymore. Sometimes he's still asleep at two or three in the afternoon. So this is something of a pointless exercise. But right now, he's the only person you know that you could kick this ancient television into showing you. So there's Shintaro on his bed, breathing slow and even. The minutes tick by slowly on his alarm clock. You can just see the blue glow of a corner of his computer screen.

It shouldn't be enthralling. You're such a voyeur.

You're so lonely, and you're so bored, and you keep watching.

Someone taps you on the shoulder.

You jolt to attention--is a storm coming? Is it already here? You spin around--

A girl with a set of horns nestled in her purple hair smiles nervously at you. "Hello," she says. "I'm sorry for interrupting. And, umm, intruding on your home."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Expect this to come out very slowly for awhile longer. I'm rewatching a lot of things in preparation for really getting this going. But consider this your "hey it's not dead" update.


End file.
